


What You Do To Me

by Marty (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, One-Sided Relationship, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-27
Updated: 2012-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Marty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things Jake English does to you are almost unfair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Do To Me

You wait until he's gone--off to search for the goddamn Crystal Skull or some shit, you honestly couldn't care less. He asks you multiple times if you want to come with him, but you shake your head, tell him that the robot will be glad to accompany him, and that you're staying back to have a quick shower ("Bollocks, Strider, you'll still be in there when I get back," is what he has to say to that). He gives in, shrugs, and leaves, robot tagging along behind him.

Once you're sure he's gone and hasn't forgotten anything and won't be coming back a while, you strip down, the cool air a shock to your oversensitive skin and too-hard dick.

The things Jake English does to you are almost unfair.

The little wrestling match was innocent enough, you tell yourself, as you turn the shower up as hot as it will go. Lack of proper pipe maintenance on Hellmurder Island has left it so that, even with the water heat turned up to maximum, your shower will be warm at best, cool at worst. You almost want to tell your robot to get on that, to fix it, so that the boy can have a proper, warm shower once in a while, because holy _shit_ you've been watching him track mud through his entire house without giving two shits all week. When you last asked him why he didn't shower after his 'adventures,' he simply shrugged and told you that it wasn't necessary.

None of that is what's on your mind, though, as you settle into the bathtub, leaning back and relaxing for a moment under the stream of water--warm; you got lucky. You let your eyes slip shut and then do your best to get as comfortable as you can. Lift your legs up, spread them, feet resting on the edges of the tub. Lay your head back, relax, ignore the aching heat between your legs.

You let out a breath and continue to think about the way he pinned you down, the way his body pressed down on yours. His thigh between your legs, gently brushing against the bulge in your jeans, leaving too quickly as he gloated over his victory.

It isn't fair, the things he manages to do with only innocent, barely-there touches and rough wrestling matches, but you can't bring yourself to be embarrassed.

You don't know how long you're laying in the tub--it might only be five minutes, but it might have been twenty--thinking about Jake. The way his teeth dig into his lip when you make him nervous, the way his hands feel when they're pinning yours down.

The way you imagine his lips would feel, pressed against yours. Rough, but still managing to be somehow soft. Just like the way he'd touch you.

Fingers slide up your inner thighs, not touching where you want them to, and you let out a little sound as those fingers brush against the underside of your dick, too gently, and then you gasp as they wrap around you, giving you a squeeze.

His (your) hand begins to move, slowly at first, almost tentatively. You bring your hand up and bite down on your finger, trying not to make too much sound as you imagine his thumb pressing against the head of your dick, his voice asking, "Am I doing alright?" You gasp a 'yes,' response to a question that wasn't asked and let your eyes slip shut again, hand gripping tighter at your dick as you let out a moan around the finger in your mouth.

"You're a tease," you whine, voice soft, as the hand wrapped around your dick moves lower, fingers teasing at your entrance. One finger slips in easily--you've ridden enough fucking robots ( _literally_ fucking robots) to have an easy enough time with this. You don't waste any time, though, pushing that one finger in as far as you can and curling it against where you know your prostate is. You gasp and wrap your free hand around your dick, shutting your eyes and biting down on your lip, hard.

Your moans have turned to little gasps of, _Jake, yes, oh god, yes, more, Jake, please,_ and ~~his~~ your hands are working as fast as they can in unison and it isn't long enough before your vision goes white and you're seeing stars, and then you're watching your come wash down the drain.

"Oh fuck," you whisper as you roll onto your side, gasping for breath.

The things Jake English manages to do to you (without even trying) aren't fair at all.


End file.
